Page 48 of A World Without You
She frowns at me and then looks at Bennett expectantly.
“Everything’s fine,” he says, his tone flat.
The woman crosses her arms. “You sure? I could get Peter to get a good look at her ID and make sure she never comes back.”
“Oh come on! Kicking me out for stumbling on the karaoke stage at a bar? That’s ridiculous. You might as well rename this place the no-fun-zone,” I huff.
Bennett sighs, exasperated. “Don’t worry, she won’t come back,” he answers, all but dragging me through the busy bar.
My mind is spinning against the music and the off-key singing screeching through the microphone.
On instinct, I hold my hands over my ears and the movement of my arms causes Bennett to glance back at me over his shoulder. Bennett is always a little grouchy but the look in his eyes feels like he just doused my skin in gasoline and lit a match on purpose. The look alone sobers me enough so that when we exit the bar, the ice-cold air stings my cheeks and reminds me of the hot liquor pulsing in my veins.
I swallow, embarrassment filling my mind. “I just...” I begin then stop when Bennett looks at me.When did he get knives for eyes?“I just wanted to sing some stupid karaoke.”
His jaw is so tight I’m certain his teeth hurt. He doesn’t look at me. More like, hewon’tlook at me.
“Bennett—”
He huffs out a breath. “You got a lot of nerve coming here!”
I swallow his bitter words wondering what he means and how we could have possibly gotten to a place where he despises me so much. He grabs my arm again and we walk toward the apartment. It’s then that I notice he’s limping.
“What happened to your leg?” I ask.
“Oh, fuck off!” He whips around, anger burning like a storm of fury in his eyes.
I freeze. I don’t know how he’s become this angry. This bitter. This isn’t the Bennett I’ve ever known. This Bennett isn’t just grumpy and upset. This Bennett hates me. The thought makes a sob form in my chest, but I force it to remain throbbing against my sternum.
He must sense how much he’s scaring me, and the seething stare he’s reserved just for me softens enough for me to realize he’s hurting. About what, I have no idea. “Did my parents send you here?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t seen your parents in this world.”
His expression twists. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Bennett’s demeanor doesn’t make me feel crazy. He simply stares down at me like he’s genuinely confused about what I mean.
“I don’t know what’s happening, Bennett. Everything is wrong. Everything feels wrong.” I cry at the last word—a long sob heaving out of me with snot and drunk tears. I wipe my nose and let out a frustrated groan. “Honestly, everything has felt wrong for five years, and I don’t know how to get it right.”
He stands tall, his hands in his pockets and the lights of the city glimmering off the icy sprinkles of rain that have landed on his shoulders. I can barely see his face because of how the streetlight is perched behind him. His silence is loud and so consuming I don’t even turn my head when a man dressed as Santa Claus with one of those bike-drawn carriages slows next to us with a Bluetooth speaker blaring, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”
Finally, I muster up some nerve to speak but stop when Bennett says, “Let’s just get you home.”
He starts walking. I don’t follow.
“You hate me,” I say, just above a whisper.
“Let’s. Go.” He is not kind with his tone and the look in his eyes alone makes me follow.
“Bennett—”
“I’m just taking you home. Don’t read into it. You’re fucking wasted, and I cut my shift short because your asshole fiancé probably won’t even answer his phone—”
“I’m not engaged,” I cut him off, my short legs working to keep up with his stilt-like legs.
“Congratulations. Those fucking fairytales aren’t real anyway.”
“Bennett, did something happen with Krista?”
